My son didn’t want to get married under this cloud of pressure. He wanted simchah and calm

As told to Malka Katzman

Like the entire crisis, our story evolved rapidly.

Shortly before Purim, there was talk about Israel limiting flights from overseas. I didn’t think much of it. My parents and siblings were definitely coming from the US for my son’s wedding. They were such an integral part of the simchah I couldn’t imagine any other option.

But soon things were not looking good. As we drove home from my in-laws on Purim night, I spoke to my mother. There was a new regulation: Anyone coming to Israel from abroad would be placed in quarantine for 14 days. It was final: They wouldn’t make it to the simchah.

We couldn’t imagine it getting any worse. And then it did.

On Wednesday night — exactly one week before the wedding date — the new Israeli regulations limited events to a 100-guest count. Moishy, the chassan, was thankfully okay with the idea. We spent all of Thursday debating the choices: Make the wedding in the hall with a hundred guests? (Answer: The hall won’t cater such a small event.) Can we have a hundred men and hundred women? (Only with a floor-to-ceiling mechitzah — nonexistent.) Serve the meal several times to groups of rotating guests (the hall manager’s suggestion)? Look for two small neighboring halls? (I don’t know — should we??!!)

At some point we let go. We’d focus on the aufruf and reassess on Sunday.

The aufruf was beautiful, and we delighted in the rare gift of pure, unfettered joy. While schlepping our things home from shul on Motzaei Shabbos, we heard wisps of rumors. The regulations had tightened.

Affairs were limited to ten people.

That’s when Moishy cried.